


the dream of the jungle

by darthpumpkinspice



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Shatterpoint - Matthew Stover
Genre: F/M, Fall to the dark side, Haruun Kal, pre-Shatterpoint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 21:22:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16250051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthpumpkinspice/pseuds/darthpumpkinspice
Summary: Kar Vastor shows her his truth - only the strong can survive the jungle.





	the dream of the jungle

Kar Vastor is –

 _Fierce_ his soldiers proclaim to the beat of their shields against the ground, and the war cries of their followers.

 _Savage_ his enemies wheeze wetly between their last breaths.

 _Necessary_ Depa murmurs to him in her weakest moments.

And not too long from now, Mace Windu will come to know him as _a monster, jungle-cruel and blood-mad_.

Kar Vastor does not care for any of these descriptions. He knows words to be hollow, worthless things that people in the Galaxy of Peace use to trick themselves into believing they have some power over their universe. That by their words, they can order and shape reality to their whims. _Laws, treaties, speeches, promises_. He sees past the deception, because he has sacrificed his voice to the jungle, and in return _pelekotan_ opened him to the truth.

Depa calls it the “Force”, but that word disgraces it- implies it is something _else,_ something to be used, manipulated, called upon. Depa has told him the Jedi believe _pelekotan_ binds the stars together, connects all life in the cosmos. In time, Kar will make her see the truth. _Pelekotan_ does not permeate through the galaxy, does not bind the stars to the heavens. It _is_ the stars, the empty space in between, the cold silence of the void, the warm heat of a woman’s flesh. _Pelekotan_ is all things, forever.

Kar is not fierce, or savage, or necessary, or cruel, any more than _pelekotan_ is any of those things.

Kar Vastor _is_.

  
In time, Depa comes to understand. She is too connected to _pelekotan_ to ignore it for long; especially here, in the sticky darkness of the jungle where _pelekotan_ is at its most pure. She wails and cries and sings her Jedi mantras in an attempt to drown out the truth, but in coming to Haruun Kal she has brought herself to the bleeding heart of the universe. The enemies have turned Kar’s world into a festering wound upon the galaxy, but _pelekotan_ feeds on the pain and hate, and it multiplies.

She could escape _pelekotan’s_ truth, back in the Galaxy of Peace, but not here. 

One night, she nestles against him, her skin fever-hot and her eyes simmering with a wildness that will eventually be stoked into madness. “I want to go home,” she pleads, half to herself.

Kar pets her hair, trying to be gentle with her. As deadly a warrior as she is, Depa is a delicate creature, and he touches her with a softness he would otherwise reserve for a vine kitten. _There is no home_ he rumbles. _It is an illusion. The universe is just_ pelekotan’s _dream._

She trembles against him, and he strokes her body until she stills. “I want to wake up.”

She has innate talent, but her Jedi teachings have perverted the _pelekotan_ inside of her; Depa has forced down her emotions for so long, tried to tame them and break them and has only succeeded at mutilating her soul. Kar smells the rot inside of her, feels her dormant pain, and he traces back the source to the parasite in her mind, the one that begins and ends at: _there is no emotion, there is peace_. It is the lie that has cost Depa her heart, and it is the lie that slowly breaks her sanity here in the unforgiving jungle. You must be pure to survive the jungle, but Kar looks into the shadow of _pelekotan_ that is Depa and sees a knot of anguished contradictions and self-loathing.

How can she survive the jungle, if she can barely survive herself?

 _This is all there is_ he says, and tries to sound as soothing as he can. He knows back in Depa’s world she is lauded as a brilliant mind – and he has seen glimpses of it in her tactics, and her piercing empathy from which no lie can remain hidden. But even a great scholar would be as a child on Haruun Kal, and so Kar speaks to her patiently, in simple terms as to not overwhelm her. _This is the universe laid bare. This jungle exists in all places, my love. Even in your Galaxy of Peace_.

Through _pelekotan_ he feels the rot inside of her shrivel up and die – but as her gaze empties and her eyes turn to glass he wonders if he has made a mistake, pushed her too hard.

“ _Peace is a lie_ ,” she breathes, rapturously, wondrously. Kar finds no fault in her logic, but there is a prickle of discomfort that stirs in him in _how_ she says it. As if it is a _revelation_.

“There is only passion,” she continues, in the same disquieting tone. She stares at him as if about to say more, but instead she darts forward and consumes his mouth in a hungry kiss.

Kar admits to himself he had been curious how people from the Galaxy of Peace fucked. In Depa, he is pleased to discover they do it no differently than any other animal. He thinks this is only right: it is the nature of all creatures to be laid bare before their passions.

 

Not long after, in a fit of grief, Depa carves the golden bead of Greater Illumination from her forehead. Kar bandages her wound and kisses her tears away as she begs him to _understand_. Her madness has grown and her words babble out of her in chaotic spurts, but Kar has never put any stock into words. He sees her clearly through _pelekotan_ \- all of her burning needs and fears, and all of her strengths and imperfections.

 _Of course I understand_ he tells her. _We all share this dream_.   


End file.
